the first angel project painting

The First Angel Project Painting

It was 1996, and I had been painting angels for five years. Five years of drawing, painting, selling and making more. It just did not seem that this was what I should be doing with them. And so, I stopped. I pulled the angels out of the gallery, out of the stores, and quit trying to do anything with them. I painted because it filled me with light. I was always reassured that the angels I created were FOR someone.

It was 11 p.m., my daughter slept quietly upstairs, and I was enjoying a moment to myself. The t.v. was on, but I was somewhere else, lost in thought. My angels’ voice cut through the mental fog I had created and it was suggested I turn the channel. I picked up the remote and began flipping through the channels. “Stop here”, the angel said. A moment later the announcer said, “stay tuned for a segment on angels”.

The segment began, and it was then that I made the acquaintance of a Miss Julie Caballa. She was ten years old and here in California on a medical emergency visa from the Philippines. The anchor person said that Julie had a rare form of brain cancer, and she wanted to see her angel before she died. Julie was crying and although she could not speak, I could see she was praying. I was crying, too. Sobbing, I asked that Julies’ prayer be answered. I argued for it! I begged for it.

A loud, clear voice filled my living room and said, “Call”. There was no mistaking the message, or the implications. I was going to have to paint Julies’ angel and I was terrified. This was too important because this was a dying wish of a child.

I telephoned the t.v. station and the operator referred me to a gentleman who said that he would tell the anchor person to call me. Debra Pacena returned my call the next day. I told her that I would like to paint Julies’ angel. I didn’t tell her who sent me, and she didn’t ask. Two days later, the chaplain that had been counseling the Caballa’s called me. She said that she would give the message to the family and if they were interested, they would be in touch. The chaplain called a few days later with the o.k. I made up a simple questionnaire for Julie to fill out just to give me an idea of what she thought her angel might look like. Julie’s questionnaire, with her answers, arrived a week later.

It took a month to complete Julie’s angel. I prayed a lot. I didn’t know what to expect, and I only hoped that what I was doing would give Julie peace and maybe help her not be so afraid of dying. I had no money to frame the painting, so I asked my angel what I should do. The angel suggested I talk to a local gallery owner. The angel assured me, “He will frame the angel. You will not have to pay.” The gallery owner did hesitate for a moment. His brow furrowed, and he mentioned he didn’t usually do this kind of thing.

He also framed it the next day, at no charge. I took the painting across the street and showed it to the woman who owned a local shipping business. I told her about Julie, and asked if she could help me with the shipping costs. She not only packaged the painting so that it could arrive safely, she also paid for it out of her own pocket. Julies’ angel was winging it way home that day.

While working on the painting, an unfamiliar hand guided mine. A voice, not of my own angel, directed me. “Paint roses and the ocean. She will know it is me by these things.” I discovered later, every step would prove significant to Julie and her family. But not as significant as what happened to Julie. A week after shipping her painting the chaplain called, very excited and told me that Julies’ cancer had disappeared. Her painting arrived, her cancer departed. It was simply gone.

I asked my angel why Julie was spared. My angel said that she was to be an example for all that were to follow. All that was to follow? I suddenly knew why I had been asked to paint angels. My angel said, “To see with the eyes of a child is the most precious possession you have forgotten. It is essential to miracles. Be as a child. Believe.”

I eventually donated close to 40 paintings to the serious and terminally ill. I saw miracles, yes. Some healed their bodies, but all healed their hearts. The people I worked with were aware of the fact that they had a very limited amount of time available to them. Ben, one of the Project people reminded me that we were all dying. This is one of the many gifts my “dying” friends have given me; to live life greatly and that within every moment there is a miracle.